An oval-shaped pencil sharpener clings to the bookshelf by the wall of the Osborn Hill Elementary school. It is attached to the wall loosely by two small screws as it swivels to one side or the other hanging by a thread. It has a silver cylindrical shape and gahers up the red wood shavings of the blackfoot #2 pencil. The freshly ground scent lingers briefly for awhile.
Revving back and forth, shrinking the pencils so that their ends are nice and sharp. Yet even with all of this grinding of the wood, it does not always produce a stable point. At times, it is rough and ragged. As are many ideas that float in my head=only to be honed through the grit of experience and the persistence of time.
Patiently awating a line of feet and eager voices as they get ready for their daily assignment in their blue books for the latest quiz that is being handed out by their teacher.
Happy 11th Birthday Little Chick
4 days ago